


Guilty

by SnaggTeeth



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of animal death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnaggTeeth/pseuds/SnaggTeeth
Summary: Formally 'Human'After a an outbreak of undead bringing on the end of the world Mako Rutledge a small time farmer isolated himself from the rest of the world, deciding that staying away from cities and civilization was the only way for him to survive.That was until he ran out of food and had no choice but to travel to the nearest town. Unfortunately he picks up more than what he hoped for meeting a young survivor who has a deal in mind for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing something that isn't original for the first time in years. But zombies are cool and so is roadrat.
> 
> No real proof reader just some spell checkers. I had no one to show this too beforehand.

How long had it been? He wasn’t sure but judging by the light filtering in through the blinds it had been long enough. Everyday would start out like this, laying in bed until noon, having a bland breakfast of dry cereal, flipping through frequencies on the radio only to have nothing but static and white noise. Sometimes he’d go outside, check his stock to see how much he had left, it wasn’t much, barely enough but the traps he had set up around the house had proven to be somewhat helpful. Most of the time he’d get a rabbit, sometimes a deer, once he got a stray dog but these days food is food so he’d take what he got. 

Four months ago everything changed. 

Four months ago the world went to shit, not that he was going to let that bring him down. His name was Mako Rutledge. A year ago he retired early from his old job as a mechanic to build himself a little home in the country. A plot of land was all he needed and so far he had done a pretty good job. Four pigs, a barn that acted more of a giant shed, and a little house. It was perfect; just Mako and his animals; he didn’t need anyone or anything else. 

Yet the world had decided that it was all too much, that he didn’t deserve it, so it threw the goddamn Apocalypse right in his goddamned face. 

 

He knew something was up when his pigs died. One by one falling ill; keeling over by nightfall. It took less than a week before all of them were buried and gone. Their meat unsafe to eat. No way he was catching whatever had killed them.

Then they showed up. 

Only one or two at first, stuck in the fences surrounding his home. To him they seemed like a bunch of drunks a little too lost after a night on the binge and although he didn’t normally welcome strangers he couldn’t just leave them stuck, drunk and at least an half an hours drive from the nearest town. Just take them in, get some water in them and send them on their way, that's all he had to do. Yet what happened wasn’t expected. Instead he’d have to fight for his life for the first time in 20 years. 

Burying bodies wasn't on his list of things to do, yet every few days another one or two would show up. Stuck in his fence or one of his traps. A quick blow to the head with a shovel and it’d all be over, ready to bury. It had become routine. 

Get up, breakfast, radio, bury the dead. 

 

Yet today would break that routine. As he got up from his bed at half noon and went to get what food he had he was instead greeted with an empty cupboard. A quick check of his stash showed that he had hardly anything left, a few boxes of the same old bland cereal and some bottles of water. It wouldn’t last him the week. 

With no choice Mako got himself ready. Truck full of gas, a gun at his side and a bag of what ammo he had. He also took a knife, having found them to be pretty effective against the few monsters he had faced. The town itself wasn’t far, and all he needed was some food. It wouldn’t be a long trip, quick in and out, grab what he can and go. The drive itself was uneventful, he’d pass a few of the monsters but no people and the drive through the town was much of the same. Slow moving monsters with no mind or humanity. Living dead, something only seen in film, not that he was a fan of those kinds of flicks, much preferring crime or cop dramas, no undead, no zombies as most called them. 

 

4 Months. That's how long it had been since he had set foot in this town. Last time he came it was full of life. People going about their daily lives, going to work, taking children to and from school, walking dogs or just being people, having the times of their lives just by living. Now it was empty, bodies littered the streets feasted on by crows and buzzards. Cars stripped of parts, buildings smashed and destroyed by those at the start, scrambling to get what they could in a blind panic. He could only imagine what it was like here when it all started, glad he had chosen to live so far out from the town, the decision more than likely saved his life. The further he went into town the thicker the carnage got. He saw more bodies, some moving but clearly long dead. Stuck in fences or trapped behind walls. Some young, some old. Still if he stayed in his truck while he made his way to his goal he’d be fine. 

Get in get out. 

Staying in the truck was the plan, the streets were far too dangerous to walk even with the protection he had bought. But as expected making a plan was futile.

It was like the world was out to get him.

Eventually he’d arrive with enough time to hopefully grab what he needed and get back home before nightfall. With no clue as to what it was like out here at night and no willingness to find out. Pulling up as close as he could he had chosen a supermarket as his destination. Instinct told him food would be here but part of him knew that by now it would be slim pickings, stripped within hours. 

 

Getting in was easy, the glass to the front doors smashed and broken. Inside was dark as expected, he wished he bought a flashlight. The inside was implausibly worse than the outside; the putrid stench magnified by the walls of the building. The nausea was overwhelming, but he pushed on regardless.

As he pushed his way through the thickening dust and grime it only became obvious to him that not only was this a waste of good fuel but a bad idea overall. 

There was nothing, shelves picked clean of canned goods, anything left behind rotten and putrid only adding to the stench that filled the market. He should just give up and go home and yer he dragged on, determined, hopeful he’d find something to eat, just enough to last until he could harvest what little food he had growing on his patch of land back home. 

 

It was useless, this place stripped bare no way he was going to find anything here, everything was gone. The further into the store he went the worse it got. The bodies piled higher, some moving some not. The stench would only get worse Mako eventually having to bring up the collar of his shirt just to shield himself from it. 

Why did he keep going? Clearly nothing was here just more and more dead and the smell was only getting worse with each step. It wasn't worth it yet something pushed him on. Morbid curiosity perhaps? 

It was as he turned the other way to head back out of the market he saw it. 

Strung up high with wires and rope was a body. It's lower half completely missing yet the remaining half growling and groaning, arms stretched out before it trying to grab at the man before it. 

It was disgusting, and he couldn't hold it in any more keeling over to vomit what little food he held in his gut. The noise he made only angering the half bodied monster further. A quick glance around revealed more of them, trapped in similar predicaments, some hung like the one before him, others stuck to the wall with nails and knives. All moving but stuck firmly in place. 

Someone was here or at least had been here and it wasn't safe. Not for the dead let alone the living. Escape was re only thing on his mind now, fuck the food, fuck the water he needed to get out. 

Scrabbling through the darkness he stormed for the only source of light he could see. Assuming it was the way out. Eyes focused on the tiny rays of light peeking through a crack in the door, no longer paying mind to the living dead around him all trying to grab at the fresh meat forcing it way past them. 

He didn't see it, he barely felt it. The only thing he cared about was getting out even when something grabbed his ankle, forcing him to the floor with a loud thud the empty shelves shaking around him. Still he pushed, desperate to reach the light all while the rotting nails of a monster bore into his flesh, pulling him back from the light. Furiously he kicked but the beast held on, wrapping a second gross hand around Mako ankle. 

He saw those teeth, bared and sharp. He knew it was over there and then. Just like in the movies, one bite and you join them you join the sea of rotting corpses that have taken over this once flourishing world. 

4 Months ago the world went to shit and now finally it was going to drag him down with it. 

With one last furious kick he forced the beast to let go it's rotted insides painting the floor behind it. Yet it wasn't his frantic attacks that made the monster let him go, but something someone else. Before he could gather himself up from the floor the bloodied end of a baseball bat pressed to his temple. Nails barely piercing his skin as the pressure slowly increased. 

“Don't fuckin’ move”.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guess I am continuing this. 
> 
> Slightly shorter chapter from Junkrats perspective, wanted to get his view on things at least once.

Just as he was getting his life together everything had to go wrong. After four years of exams he finally got that engineering degree he promised himself and everyone around him he’d get. He’d just gotten a job, basic garage work but it was a start, hell he even had his own apartment and he’d just started talking to his Ma again. 

For a kid who never got along well in school, struggled to socialize without throwing punch or two. Even missing an arm haddn’t stopped him, so far he had done pretty well for himself. 

And yet the planet decided to go ahead and have an apocalypse. His degree became useless, he had to kill his boss in the name of self defense. Contact with his Ma was lost she just never returned his calls, and some prick raided his apartment and took all his stuff. 

So here he was four months into the end of the world with nothing but the clothes on his back hiding out in a shoddy market storage room that smelt like rot and piss. Not so bad he’d tell himself, he wasn’t dead if that counted for anything, that and he managed to deck up the market in such away no one bothered him. Sure it was gross, bodies strung up like art in a gallery but it worked, and it even kept the dead out and anything that did wander in was quickly added to the display. 

Problem was he was starting to run out of supplies. Sure he had a shit ton of canned goods, more than enough for himself, it was everything else he could more of. Fuel for his generator, batteries for his flashlight and radio, medication. 

He needed medication. 

A pharmacy had to be around here somewhere surely. He couldn’t remember and it had been awhile since he’d left the store room, who’s to say everything was actually back to normal and he could just walk out into a perfectly safe undead free world and go back to fixing cars for a living.   
But if that was the case someone should’ve come looking for him, kicked him out of the storage room at least. Maybe they knew he was there, and left him because he was actually some crazed one armed madman who was better off alone. 

No Focus, the world is still dead, no one was alive except for him and he was going to be fine. All he needed was a quick trip down the road, he’d done it before he could do it again easily.

Bag packed, bat in hand and knife on his belt he was more than ready to face the dead. Getting through the market would be a breeze, he knew where the trapped lay he set them himself. 

Lucky he did set those traps, no moments before leaving the little store room a string of tin cans rattled just above his head, alerting him to someone or something entering his market. 

Normally it’d go ignored, undead getting stuck only meant more people repellant. But as he edged closer to the back entrance of the market the rattling would only continue, increasing in frequency and volume until finally the room echoed with the crash of something hitting the ground, something big. 

No way he could ignore that, his curiosity a little stronger than his focus. Could be anything, a horde? A person? Some kind of freakish mutant zombie thing like from the movies? Whatever it was it was making a lot of noise, and noise attracts the dead.

Reluctantly he turned back, heading into the darkened maze that was the trap filled market, following the sounds of the whatever it was that echoed throughout the barren building.   
It wouldn't take long to find whatever it was, the thing barrelling past him disturbing the dead into a frenzy of growls and whines. 

Oh it was big and the first thought to run hough hid head is that it was indeed some sort of mutant both tall and wide. Large gut he assumed was filled with some sort of bile, no human was that well fed anymore. Panic struck him, no way he could fight it off if it found him. Maybe he could trap it? No it’d break free in no time. Lead it away maybe, he was delicious right? 

He’d soon snap out of his trial of thought and yet another loud crash followed by the angered snarls of one of the many trapped undead. The thing had fallen, undead tightly gripping it's leg as it cried and flailed desperate to get away. 

It wasn't a mutant, it was a person and they were going to die. 

He should’ve of left them, he could've, he didn't know the guy and it's survival of the fittest out here if this guy couldn't fight off one lousy undead then it was a miracle he was even alive at this point. And yet here he was jumping out of the safety of a deli counter, nail in crusted bat in hand ready to bury into the face of some zombies. 

Having fought of the dead many times before this was an easy fight, given the fact the thing clawing at the guy's leg was smothered in barbed wire keeping it firmly in place as he bought the bat down firmly on its head sending a thick spray of rotted flesh and juices high into the air and onto his clothes and skin. It stank but it was a stench he was used too at this point. 

Cleaning himself from the sticky flesh he turned his attention to the stranger in his home. Big, well fed, fairly clean save for a few patches of grime and what looked to be a stain of vomit on his shirt. Old bastard too. 

Clean, fed, freaking out about undead. This man had never seen a day in the apocalypse. Only one conclusion came to mind, this guy had it good, and he was going to share. 

Pressing the end of the bat firmly to the man's temple, nails pressing into skin ever so slightly but not enough to draw blood he loomed over the other, trying his best to look as threatening as possible with his lanky form. 

“Don't fuckin’ move”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look story progression finally.

What the hell just happened? One minute he was desperately scrambling for life, the next his apparent savor was threatening to kill him? With a spiked bat no less how creative. The kid wasn't even that scary, sure he was trying, leaning over him as he paced around, bat held firmly in place against his temple. But he was scrawny, underweight, a layer of soot and dirt on his skin and matting up his blonde hair as if he hadn't bathed in weeks. Clothes just as filthy, torn and tattered shirt and jeans, and a black hooded jacket equally as filthy. 

Not to mention he was missing an arm. The kid looked barely alive, a miracle of survival. Yet he rattled on like some sort of big shot, Mako barely listened, still trying to wrap his mind around what exactly just happened, it isn't every day your savior threatens to kill you moments after saving your ass.

“Oi mate, ya listening?” 

His attention snapped back back the assailant, silent and unmoving. At least he was doing as he was told, staying as still as he could, body still firmly planted on the floor.

No he wasn't, he barely caught what the kid had said to him, only a few words registering. Something about supplies? Maybe he offered to help? Or he was asking for it.

“Fine I’ll start again” with a sigh the pacing started again, circling around the hulk of a man on the floor.

“you are looking for supplies right? Only reason someone would come in here is supplies”.

Mako gave a nod, the kid was right this place wasn't a sideshow attraction and any normal person who saw a mall would assume food had to be inside. 

“Well I might have what you are looking for, and by looking at you and your gut-” he gave a prod with the end of the bat. “you might have something I’m looking for. No one out here has it good, not good enough to have nice looking clothes and a fat arse anyway”. 

Rude observation, but he wasn't wrong. So far what Mako had seen of the town he did have it good. The place was a wreck, void of the life that once filled it. This Kid was the first person he had seen in months that wasn't a moving corpse and yet he took on the appearance of one.

“By the looks of things I’d say this is your first day out here, all on your lonesome” The kid chuckled, leaning down to Mako’s level, bat slung over his shoulder. “Here’s the deal, if you help me out, share with me what you have and I will share with you” a grin spread across his face as he rose up once again, hooking the bat under his only arm as he stretched out his hand to the man below.

Mako only sat in silence. Was he really going to trust the first person he’d seen alive in months? a scrawny, filthy, over-confident, cocky twit with a smug look like that? Did he have a choice? Technically yes, knowing fully well he could very easily Beat the shit out of him and just take what he wanted no questions asked. Could be lying, who's to say they had nothing at all and are only trying to get what little food and resources he had left back home. 

He did save his life. 

Clearly they knew what to do, how to survive out here, Mako knew nothing, at least when it came to the monsters, all of his knowledge coming from crappy flicks he watched in his youth, barely remembering how they went. 

If he did have food, Mako would not mind having a piece or two of it. 

With a slight groan he took the kids hand and hauled himself up from the ground, giving a firm shake of the hand once he was up on his feet. 

“Great! Good to see you are thinking right. Names Jamison, Jamison Fawkes but you can call me Jamie. Ice to meet you…?” 

“Mako”

“Mako? And here I was expecting Frank or Pete” he let go, heading back towards the storage room he called home. Leading Mako through a maze of shelves and counters avoiding each carefully placed trap only now Mako could see now that he had a guide by his side. The Kid, Jamie would rattle on again, Mako barely paying any attention to his ramblings. He wasn't here to make friends, his goal still the same; Get in, get supplies, get out. 

Soon They’d reach storage, Jamie dipping inside, insistent Mako wait outside as if whatever he held inside was the world's greatest secret. Soon he’d return, two bottles of water under his arm and pushing a box of various canned good along the floor with his feet. It’d be pushed to Mako, he’d reach for it only for it to be pulled back again. 

“Help me out first Mate.”

Mako could only groan, he didn't have the damn farm on hand just to give away. All he had with him was the clothes on his back and his truck, not much help here.

“I don't have anything with me. Just the truck”. 

“You have a truck?” Jamison’s face lit up. Perfect! Just what he needed. It would make the trip to the pharmacy so much easier. Already Jamie was darting back into the storage, returning with a kitchen knife and shoving it into Mako’s hand before heading back into the maze of a market. Mako would follow but not without picking up the box of canned food first. 

Jamie was already outside, circling the truck with a wide grin, admiring the chipped white paint as if it was freshly painted even if a layer of dirt and dust caked the bottom ever so slightly. 

“Nice one mate! It’ll do just nicely I think”

“You can't have the truck” He watched as Jamie pried the door open, hooping into the driver's seat with a second thought, Mako would pull him back out not a moment later climbing into the seat himself. 

“Mate I’m not asking for the truck, just want ya to take me somewhere”. He went to the other side, climbing back up into the truck and strapping in. “Just take me a few blocks down the road to the pharmacy and you can have the food, get me back and you can have some more”. 

With little choice on the food matter Mako could only agree, stuffing the box he already had under the seat, strapping in and switching on the engine.

The journey itself was short, Jamie once again rattling on about something. Again Mako didn't really listen only catching little details here and there. The streets they passed like the vest of the town were empty, not even any monsters hanging around. Just trash, broken windows and long abandoned vehicles. The pharmacy was an easy find. Between ramblings Jamie would direct on where to go, he seemed to know the town pretty well. 

Just like the market the pharmacy was torn to shreds. Door hanging limp from its hinges and windows shattered to pieces. It was small, easy to see from the outside the mess within. Shelves stripped clean, some toppled over, whatever the Kid wanted it didn't seem to be here. Yet the two got out of the truck and went inside.

Jamie knew what he was looking for, hauling himself over the counter to get at the shelved in the back. Just like the front they were mostly empty, a few bottles here and there of medicines he didn't recognize but so far no sign of what he needed. Mako would stay at the front, browsing what little remained strewn about the store, having slighter Better luck than the other at finding something useful. A box of painkillers, some multi-vitamins and some surgical masks. He’d put one on, catching something out here no matter how mundane could be a death sentence now with no doctors to rely on anymore.   
He’d continue to browse the tiny store, stooping to take a moment to look through the magazines. Nothing he cared about, all celebrity gossip or political bullshit that didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered really, no government, no people, it was just him and those monsters.

And Jamie, who had been pretty quiet since they got inside, what was he doing back there? He’d give it a few more minutes then go check going back to browsing the old magazines one centered around fishing having caught his interest. 

Still quiet. How long had it been? Ten? Fifthteen minutes? In the little time he’d known Jamie he had already figured this much quiet wasn't a good thing, the kid haddn’t shut up since they met.

“Jamison?” 

No answer.

With a sigh he put down the slightly interesting magazine and headed for the back of the store, squeezing his way past the counter into the tightly packed shelves that once held thousands of pill bottles. 

“Jamison? Answer me”. 

Still nothing. 

This wasn't good, carefully he made his way through, eyes scanning the room in front of him looking for any signs of life. 

He’d get one. Pill bottles littering the floor as something heavy fell with a thump. Mako rushed to the source, acting on instincts as he tore through the shelves, freezing at the sight if Jamison flat on the floor, kicking and weakly pushing at the monster desperately trying to get a bite of his still living flesh. His bat just inches out of reach, unable to use it anyways as he only hand was too busy trying to push the persistent creature away from himself. Once again Mako moved purely on the instinct to protect, grabbing the monster by it’s bloodied shirt and hauling it away from Jamie and into the shelf behind them sending more bottles crashing to the ground. It wasn't enough, the monster would stand again, barrelling towards the larger man teeth bared and snarling but Mako was faster, diving for the bat and with one large swing bringing it into contact with the creature's head. It caved on impact, rotted remains splattering the shelf and wall behind it. The creature would fall in a slump but Mako wasn't taking any chances bringing the bat down on its head a few more times until the head was nothing but a mush of flesh and rot. 

Now he was sure, sure it wasn't going to get back up and try again. Dropping the bat he turned to Jamie who was still on the floor, wide eyed and panting, he’d never get used to that, even if it had happened many times before in the last few months. Mako held his hand to the younger man who without Hesitation took it and hauled himself up from the ground, a smile appearing on his freshly blood speckled face. 

“Now we are even” Mako stated as he reached for the bat, handing it back to its rightful owner. “Did you find what you need?”

Jamie gave a nod, retrieving his half opened back from the floor, zipping it up quickly. “Yeah, plenty of it”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. All the comments so far have made me really happy, its good to get encouragement when writing isn't your strong point. Thank you everyone! quq


	4. Chapter 4

Getting home was easy. No traffic to shift though, the sun was still up, and his quick trip out of town had left him with enough supplies to last him for another two or three months at least. Over all he’d call it a pretty successful trip. 

If it wasn't for the loud mouthed jackass sat in the passenger seat beside him, flipping through static stations on the radio. 

The plan was to just get food, just enough to last. Yes he had followed through with that plan but after the Jackass saved his life he figured he owed him a bit more than what he originally offered in their little deal. 

They had stuffed every last bit of good they could fit from the market into the back of the small truck along with anything else they could find that might of been useful, and headed out of town straight back to the farm. 

“Hooley Dooley! Is this all yours mate?” Jamison’s face lit up from the sight of the small farm. The farmhouse and barn just in view at the end of the dirt road Mako parked on. It wasn't much to Mako, his prized pigs long gone, and not much to show for in the crops department. It was barely a farm at this point. 

“got any animals?” Jamie asked as he started unloading the truck, a few bottles of water under his one arm and a few in hand. 

“Just a few hens” Ten to be exact not counting the rooster. They roamed free around the farm, doing what they wanted when they wanted. Mako unloaded as much as he could carry, heading up to the farm house leaving Jamie to explore to his heart's content.

He was like a child, hypnotised by everything he saw, getting excited when a hen trotted past with a few chicks behinds it. It was like he’d never been to a farm before, a little surprising, didn't he ever go on field trips as a kid?

It wouldn't matter, Jamie’s curiosity landing on the farmhouse itself as soon as Mako unlocked the door.  
Inside was everything Jamie had been missing. Warmth that filled his body as soon as he stepped inside, dim lights, a couch and tv, although the tv didn't work, not since the power was switched from mains to generators. A kitchen, a bathroom with running water, hot water. All these things Jamie thought he’d never see again, too good to be true.

As Jamie explored Mako continued to unload the truck, it took a few trips to finally get everything inside and by the time Mako was done Jamie had claimed a the entire couch, sprawling his gangly across the fabric cushions, dirt and grime staining it. It reminded Mako just how filthy Jamie was. Without a second thought he grabbed a towel and some spare clothes, far too big for the stick of a man but for now it didn't matter, what mattered was getting him cleaned up. He tossed the clothes over, the weight of them and the towel jolting the kid awake.

“Oi! Wassat for?!” he’d just dozed off, having missed the comfort of a slightly lumpy but warm and cuddly couch. 

“Bath now. You are filthy”

Jamie didn't think twice, darting off to the bathroom, door slamming behind him. His first bath in months no way he was passing on this. He was gone for almost an hour. 

During that time Mako made supper, canned ,canned vegetables, and some eggs from the hens. It wasn't much but it had to have been better than anything Jamie had had in the past few months. Ready and on the table with some tea just as Jamie stepped out of the bathroom. 

He looked ridiculous, wet hair stuck to his face, shirt swallowing him and pajama shorts looking more like pajama pants. Silly grin spread across his face as he dropped his dirty clothes to the floor and sat at the table. 

Or rather perched. 

It was odd but Mako didn't question it, perhaps a habit picked up from living on the floor of the market for so long, couldn't of been comfortable sitting on cold tile all of the time. Silently they ate, Jamie being the quietest he had been since meeting Mako, stuffing every last bit of food down within a few minutes. Again likely another habit he had gained from his life out there alone. It was amusing to watch him burn his tongue attempting to chug the tea, as if he forgotten drinks could be hot. It was interesting to see how much the apocalypse could change someone, make them act so different from the norm. Although Mako had never known him before maybe he was always this twitchy, this out of place. 

The rest of the evening was spent in relieve quiet, the sun setting not long after they finished supper. Mako prepared a makeshift bed for Jamie out of some old blankets he found in the back of a cupboard, a pillow from his own bed and the couch, Jamie dozing off pretty quickly shortly after settling down. 

They never discussed the terms of their supposed partnership. How long Jamie would stay at the farmhouse. Mako couldn't just throw him back out into the world to face the undead, not after everything that happened. Besides it was a cruel thing to do practically leaving them to their deaths. He figured the kid would move on eventually, deciding for himself when he’d overstayed his welcome. 

A week would pass, and the kid would remain.

He’d help around the farm, or at least try too. Running from the rooster when collecting eggs, snooping around getting his nose into anything he could find, giving Mako’s truck a look over, fixing anything that stood out as a problem to him even if it wasn't. He even helped take care of the monsters that got stuck in the surrounding fences. He was a smart kid, setting up the tin can traps to alert them and reinforcing the fence so it could catch more and cave less. 

Mako wasn't totally sure as to why he did it, why he let the kid stick around. Normally he’d kick them out by now this was his land after all and the idea behind owning it was so he could be alone, away from people like Jamison.

Mako leaned down to his patch of crops. Mostly vegetables like tomatoes and some beans. They still have a few months of growing left, not a problem now that he had more than enough food stocked up in the house. 

“Oi mate, hold still”

Mako turned, a bright flash greeting him. He brought his hands to his eyes, giving them a rub until he could see clearly again. There stood Jamison, polaroid camera hanging loosely around his neck as he shook the photo he just took before stuff it down his shirt to develop. He’d been in the basement again. 

A few times now he’d been down there,   
Mostly out of boredom or curiously but each time he went he’d come back up with something of Mako’s, something he’d forgotten he had. 

Jamison took the picture out and with a groan handed it to Mako. “You Blinked! Come on let's do another one” he held up the camera again and before Mako could object he snapped another picture. He seemed more satisfied with this picture than he did the other one, use usual wide smile on his face as he pocketed it, turning to take pictures of the farm around them focusing on the hens. 

After some time Mako would stand, dusting the dirt off from his knees. The two of them still had some work to do, like checking the fences and clearing out anything or anyone that’d wandered into them.

It was a lot, a lot more than usual. Dozens trapped at the fence tangled in wire or pierced with nails, all reaching over to two and get at the two living before them. Over the last few days the numbers had gotten higher but nothing the two of them couldn't manage. This was no different. Slowly the two of them went from one end of the fence to the other, Mako with a knife, Jamison with his bat, taking care of each undead with a swift hit to the head and as they each took care of one, another would come along and get stuck. bodied began to pile up, the two of them getting tired. 

“It's no use, they just keep coming” Jamison dropped his bat, stepping away from the fence and sitting down in the grass. “We gotta reinforce the fence more, or it's gonna break”. He was right, he could hear it creaking under the pressure but Mako wouldn't stop, bodies falling as he paced the fence, a quick strike to the head dealing with each undead he passed. They couldn't reinforce the fence, not with the ever growing wall of undead on the other side. They had to thin out the numbers first, just enough to sit in relative safety. 

“Keep going” Mako said with a light kick to the bat, sending it closer to Jamison who still sat. Reluctantly Reluctantly he got up, turning the bat in his hand as he glanced end to end at the fence. 

It wasn't enough.

No matter what they did, no matter how many they break, the bodies will just keep on coming. Who knew how many were coming, dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? He had seen groups before slowly stumbling through the streets outside the market, not even his traps thinned out the numbers he was lucky to of had that storage room so far out of the way. 

The fence wasn't going to last, and neither were they if they stuck around.

“Mako we gotta go” He reached out only to be pushed back forcefully, still the older man pressed on, taking care of each undead as he moved along the fence. A quick jab to the temple, eye, face. He wasn't giving up, he wasn't losing his farm now. 

Jamison was the first to hear it, the creaking of wood. A quick look and he saw, 30 or so feet down the line bodies piled up, pressing to the fence snarling and spitting. Wood bending and cracking under pressure. 

“Mako! Come on it's not gonna hold we have to go now!” grabbing his sleeve Jamie pulled, earning another push back from Mako. 

“We are staying until every last one of these things are dead!” 

“We will be dead if we don't-” 

The fence collapsed, undead spilling through the gap. Mako stood, frozen in horror, Jamison desperately trying to haul him away


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you an update! One that is so very overdue. A lot happens though so I hope that makes up for it.

His entire life vanishing before him, crumbling to nothing as more and more undead filled his land. The house offered only temporary safety as Mako watched through a gap in the drawn curtains as a zombie latched onto one of his hens and ripped it to shreds. His head was fog, he couldn't think, never before had he seen so many undead, and they just kept coming. Jamie was frantic, pushing tables as best he could in front of the door, a chair then a box piled on top. If would only offer a few extra moments before those things eventually reached the house. They had ten minutes, fifthteen at most, now wasn't the time to go into lock down. 

The basement. It could offer more safety than the walls themselves, zombies didn't know how stairs worked right? And they could nail the door shut, easy enough, safe enough to hide out until the horde passed. Mako grabbed the younger man and dragged him along despite the protest, chucking him into the safety of the dark hole of the basement. Locking the door he quickly made his way down, feeling out for the light switch and shaking his head at the chaos that greeted him in the light. Jamie had been busy down here. 

Boxes littered the floor, opened and unpacked or repacked with little care and stuffed full. Sheets and duvets filled the corner, next to it Jamie’s bag. If Mako had known better he’d assume the kid had been sleeping down here. Surprisingly however it was clean, not a cobweb in sight. Not letting the mess distract him Mako began making his own mess, turning his attention to a pile of untouched Boxes in the back. If he remembered correctly something handy was hidden down here, and he was pretty glad Jamie had yet to find it. Pushing aside the worn cardboard he soon found what he was looking for. Long, black and beautifully crafted, a wooden case. It had been some time since he had seen this, a thin layer of dust ruining the once shiny varnish on top. Quietly it was opened, revealing inside the prize. An old but classic pump action shotgun. It had been years since he had to use this, the last time being an empty threat against some kids who dared trespass on his land. Hidden stuffed inside was a box of ammo, hopefully enough to get them out of this mess if they had to fight. 

Lost in his admiration of his old toy he had hardly noticed the activity going on behind him, jumping awake at the sound of something tearing, rather violently. He turned to the sight of Jamie, hunched over a pile of bottles a mixture of alcoholic drinks from fine aged wine to head splitting rums. Jamie tore various sized strips of sheet fabric and was stuffing each into a bottle. 

“No! No way you are not blowing up my farm”.

The kid didn't look up, instead he kept going, tearing more strips, filling more bottles, already six of them ready and set around him. Mako stepped closer snatching a bottle from him before he could turn it into a weapon. It caught his attention at least, and so did the gun in Mako’s hand. “You got guns? Got anymore?” 

“No”.

“Liar”.

It was a lie, an extra side arm was hidden in the house, although it want in the basement instead it was in the bedroom, hidden in a metal container under the bed. It was never meant to be used, another empty threat for emergencies only, most would say a horde of undead on your doorstep classified as one hell of an emergency and with a slightly irritated but defeated sigh he confessed. “Yeah, upstairs under the bed. But you can't have it, not if you plan on destroying my home”.

“That is not the plan!” Jamie stood, snatching the remaining bottles and hauling them over to his bag, a quick rummage around earned him some rope that he begun to tie around the bottles then his waist like a makeshift belt. The camera around his neck was stuffed into the bag that was then zipped and hauled onto his back. He was ready, plan set so strongly in his mind that nothing would stop him now. All that mattered was getting out alive safe and getting away, and if circumstances allowed that horde would be gone too. Thick hands grabbed him, pulling him back with enough force to leave a bruise or two. Mako had his own plan, one that had worked so far for him and would continue to do so, he’d make sure of it. “We are staying”. He pulled harder, grounding the smaller man. 

“If we stay we die! I can get us out! I know these things! So let me go you fat oaf!” he protest with harsh whispers, careful not to alert the dead to their location as he pulled at the hand ever increasing the grip on his arm. “Fuck off! You’re gonna break my good arm!”

“We are staying put until those thing pass! It's too dangerous to move now!” Mako was much louder, voice echoing against the old walls of the basement, it made Jamie flinch, pausing to listen to the dead above before retaliating. 

“It is always dangerous! It's the fucking Apocalypse! We do what we can to survive and quite frankly hiding out on a farm is-!” 

He stopped, listening intensely. Something was moving upstairs, footsteps lazily moving across the floorboards above. Neither of them had noticed the windows shattering above them, the thump of a body hitting the floor amidst the shouting match, but they could hear it now, one then two then so many both had lost count. Mako’s grip would loosen as he listened, Jamie wiggled free, bolting for the stairs, throwing his full weight into it, snapping it off its hinges. . 

The house was already over run, at least a dozen undead stood between Jamie and the kitchen, even more between him and the stairs up to the bedroom. He needed that gun, it’d clear a path for him in no time flat. Shame it was upstairs and not in his hand, he’d have to improvise. Luck would be on his side, undead are slow, uncoordinated, easy to avoid, amd if they got a hold of him? Well they won't, he was sure of it. With a slight grin Jamie ran directly into the ever growing crowd of undead, his thin frame giving him the advantage allowing him to slip through and towards the stairs with ease. Zombies also couldn’t climb stairs, not well at least leaving Jamie with plenty of room to speed into the only bedroom, grab the gun and go. 

Downstairs Mako had made the decision to face the horde on his own. With the basement door so recklessly destroyed by Jamie he didn’t have much choice, eventually the undead would find him and he would not be able to escape. He had to do what he could to clear this horde, this was his home his whole life, he wasn’t going to let it go now because of some rotting corpses. Quickly he loaded his gun, firing shot after shot into the crowd in front of him, clearing one or two with each shot until he could see a path through to the next room. It would be a tight fit but he had no choice he would have to push through. With a deep breath Mako Charged, slipping past what undead he could, and crushing the rest with his size. As he moved from room to room, his goal being the kitchen, more and more undead poured through the safety of the house walls and into his home. They had to clear them, kill them or whatever you do to stop them he wasn't losing his home, not now.

Where was Jamie? He couldn't see them, couldn't hear them. Had the dead gotten him? He didn't think so, he’d surely would of heard that the sound of flesh being torn from bone would of have stood out to him even in this chaos. Quickly he grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, a fairly hefty kitchen knife as more undead filled the kitchen. Equally as quickly he took care of the few that had already gotten a little too close. A strong kick to send them back, a blade to the head to make sure they didn't try again. He’d clear himself a pathway only for it to be filled once again. How many of these things were there?! He was cornered, body pressed to the counter behind him, clothes soaked with blood and flesh. Panic brew as dead hands reached for him, grabbing and pulling, teeth trying to get a bite. He’d push them away, push with enough force to send the crowd back but They’d gather again giving him barely enough time or room to make a move, he didn't even have time to reload his gun. The fight didn't stop however, he was not ready to die, not like this. 

Gunshots rang out in front of him, quick and efficient. With each shot a body would fall, the thin face of Jamie appearing behind the quickly thinning crowd. He was equally as filthy, brown blood soaking his shirt and skin along with his own sweat. Jamie yelled although Mako could barely make it what was said over the groans of the remaining corpses, but a path had been cleared so he ran. 

“Mako we gotta go! Leave! Right now!” Jamie spilled once Mako was stood next to him. Much of the house had been cleared and if they stayed they would clear it completely in no time flat. It was outside they had a problem with, no doubt over run, but Jamie had an idea, a quick and easy way to clear most of what remained, to clear a path and give them time to reach the truck alive and safe. Jamie didn't care anymore, he knew the farm couldn't be saved, not now, he had seen heard before he knew what they could do. It happened to the town, his home and he lucky to have survived it on his own.   
“Mate get what you can and get to the truck, I can clear ‘em for ya”. 

Mako had to trust him, he didn't want to but knew he needed too. So he nodded, rushing to grab whatever he could from food to blankets, stuffing it all into the largest bag he could find. The truck wasn't far from the house, it was just outside between it and him yet another crowd of undead, far larger than what had just destroyed the inside of his home. It was all he could see, corpse after corpse stretching as far back as the fence line beyond the barn. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear every zombie a part one by one, but he couldn't he had to get in his truck and go, he had to hope Jamie’s plan would work. 

As Mako began to clear the crowd, Jamie would join him, he wanted to ensure Mako was even just somewhat safe, close enough to his destination and not smothered from head to toe in undead assholes. That and he also needed the room to get his own plan underway. When he knew the crowd was small enough for Mako to handle by himself Jamie backed off, taking shelter under the porch way for a few moments as he prepared himself. A lighter was pulled from his pocket, one he had snagged from one of the cabinets in Mako’s room when he had gotten the gun, small and pink. A bottle pulled from the rope around his waist fabric quickly lit. He did this again, preparing a second just in case. Fire was a sure way to thin a horde, they couldn't fight off the burn, instead drawn to the light and heat, their bodies would add to the fuel only strengthening the blaze. He knew this would work, at least giving them the time to escape the farm. 

With every ounce of strength he could muster Jamie threw the first bottle into the crowd hearing it shatter as it hit the floor and watching as Flames engulfed the horde. Cracking a smile he threw the second, grinning as the dead burned, those not caught in the flames turning their attention away from both him and Mako and instead stumbling into the fire. Mako watched in horror as his home burned, panic and fear molding into anger and hatred. As Jamie approached with that stupidly smug grin he couldn't help but lash out knuckles cracking a hard punch to the younger man's nose. Before the young man could even make sense of what was going on Mako climbed into the truck and just drove, leaving Jamie behind, bruised, bleeding and with a quickly roasting gathering of undead all while his life crumbled behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment and Kudos is appreciated and loved even if I don't respond, I still read every single one of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Mako and Jamie take some time to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this half done for almost a week and then assignments happened heck.

It would be noon the next day when the flames finally died down. Bodies of crispy undead littered the grounds, dozens and dozens piled on each other a few still desperately reaching for something fleshy to eat. The barn was gone, nothing but charcoal and ash, crops vanished from sight, a patch of scorched ground in their place. The house barely stood, a single breeze could topple it over at any given time. Yet there Jamie stood under the porch way, towel pressed tightly to his nose. He stood waiting for the sound of a truck, the sight of Mako returning, giving him a big hug and apologising for breaking his nose. Sure technically Jamie was the one who threw the molotov, yes he did do the one thing Mako told him not to do but it worked! The horde was gone, both of them alive and the house was still standing! The farm was fine they could work with this! Mako was so desperate to keep the farm and yet he ran off to sulk like a child. He better come back. 

He didn't, no matter how long Jamie sat there the familiar sound of the engine never came and by sundown Jamie Had had enough. He was bored of standing around. Discarding the towel he went inside, figuring he was better off patching up the wound rather than just leaving it to go rotten. It wasn't easy and it wasn't pretty either. His face swollen the flesh around his nose bruised and torn, dried blood tracing a line from his nostrils down his chin, a few dots of blood littering his shirt. He had hardly noticed his eye before, and now that he stood in front of the bathroom mirror he saw just how swollen his right eye was. Mako could hit hard, hit well, he didn't expect a grumpy oversized farmer had a good swing on him, he was almost impressed. Once he cleaned off the dirt and blood he began the task of patching up his face, using what he had scavenged from the remains of the house, much of it not really for medical use.

After a painful hour and a half of sticking, stinging and even more blood decorating the floor, sink and his shirt Jamie was almost ready to give up with making himself look presentable, but his nose was covered, had finally stopped bleeding and he’d even had enough materials left to make a nifty eyepatch to protect his still very much swollen eye. Something he’d rather show off but in a world where masking tape and curtain rags counted as medicine it as better to be safe than sorry.

Jamie would continue to wait, cleaning up the house as much as he could, getting rid of as many of the bodies as he could and collecting what surolies he could make use of, a crate and a half of food, a steak knife, rope and even a few more bottles of alcohol, one he decided to ooo open and sip on as night took over. Jamie would return to his spot on the porch as the seemingly endless wait continued long into the night until he finally dozed off. 

\----------

How long was this damn road? How long had he been moving? Mako didn't know, nor did he care all his mind said to him was to keep on moving, don't look back, it wasn't worth it. How could of he let Jamie do that do that to him? Do the one thing he told him not to do and destroy everything he had ever cared about? And after letting that punk stay? He never should of helped him in the first place, he seemed to have been doing fine on his own in that fortress of his, he knew how to handle the monsters just fine hell he even saved his life.

He did save his life. More than once. Mako the largest man you could meet, scary by sight alone due to his sheer size, saved by a scrawny, underweight, punk ass child at least twice. All within the space of a week. Mako had to admit that kid was stubborn, too stubborn to die just because the world had come to an end. Still this didn't change the fact that he had destroyed his home. Mako didn't owe him anymore, he didn't need to stay, and he certainly didn't need to free bad about leaving him behind, with the farm ablaze, surrounded by undead, and a broken nose. 

Mako stopped the truck. 

No no no, Jamie was fine, he had survived worse, four months alone cooped up in that storage room. He could live through anything, he was stubborn enough. Besides he deserved that punch, Mako was sure he felt that kids face buckle beneath his fist when he struck him. He deserves it. So why did he worry? 

Maybe it was because Jamie was the first person he had seen in months. The first person he could have a conversation with, a mostly one sided conversation but a chat nonetheless. He was the first person not to question a thing about him, he didn't ask personal questions, didn't pry, all he ever asked about was the farm itself as if he had a never even seen one, did schools not do the classic farmers day out field trips anymore? 

Jamie was curious, always had ideas, good or bad. He had so much energy Mako wondered where he kept it all on that impossibly thin frame of his. He was so fucking smart, smarter than he gave himself credit for, than Mako gave him credit for, and he never took no for an answer. Smart, curious, stubborn, everything you could ever need in a person to survive. Jamie would be fine.

Slowly the truck hummed to life once again, Mako taking the time to clear his thoughts of the blonde and instead try and figure out where he should go next. He knew the area well enough, living here for ten years would do that. The city wasn't far off, couple of hours up the road. He was sure it would be full to the brim with supplies, food, clothes, even weapons. It seemed like the ideal place to go and Mako was more than happy to go there. Until he remembered it was more than likely going to be overrun. An impossible venture, suicidal really, he’d have to think of something else. Quickly he went over in his head what he had and what he needed. 

Food, water, shelter. The basics. A new set of clothes would be nice as well his own starting to smell from the thin layer of dried blood and rot clumped in patches throughout. All he had with him was his gun and his truck, both running out of ammo and fuel.

Fuel, that's what he needed. He recalled passing a gas station a few miles back, it was worth a shot to take a look despite the likelihood it had been picked clean months prior. Mind made up Mako turned the truck around and went back, to the gas station, not Jamie. 

\----------

So the prick wasn't coming back? Fine, Jamie didn't need him anyways, he did fine one his own before he could do it again. Raiding the house of everything he could salvage, a few cans of food mostly beans and fruit. A few extra knives from the kitchen and even some painkillers he found hidden in Mako’s room, strong ones too. Bag stuffed full to the brim, glad that survived the blaze, Jamie headed off, away from the farm with a grin on his face despite the throbbing in his nose, and the anger he forced to stay deep down.

Going back to the town likely would of been a waste, whatever remained of the horde having likely overrun it by now. So instead he’d go the other way, away from the town and away from the farm. He didn't know the area well and Jamie had no luck with finding a map in that damned house so he’d just have to hope something would turn up along that road. A gas station, a diner, hell another town would he nice, anything with shelter or food. For now all he could do was walk, walk and hope something decent showed up along the road. 

He wasn't entirely sure how long he had been walking when he came across it, the familiar sight of the truck, parked outside a tiny pit stop, a little dirtier than he remembered stains of blood and grime littering the front but it was Mako’s and that meant the big bastard was around here somewhere. No matter, this will be a good lesson for him; don't leave a truck unattended and unlocked in the middle of nowhere.

Quickly Jamie got inside ducking underneath the wheel and searching for those all important wires he’d need to make the truck his own. He’d done this before, many times. Stealing cars for quick unlicensed joy rides in his teen years always gave that much needed thrill he craved. They’d always get cut short, either Jamie was crash into a tree on account of the fact he couldn't actually drive all that well or he’d be pulled over for speeding, arrested for a number of other offences. Now it didn't matter, no one could stop him. One of the few perks of the apocalypse was it's lawless nature, Jamie could do what he wanted. He gave a silent cheer of victory when the engine roared to life ready to dive into the driver's seat and speed off only to duck down further when the door flew open and the double barrelled end of a shotgun was pressed to his forehead. 

 

“Wait! Wait! Waiwaiwaiwaiwait! It's me! It's me!” Jamie begged, raising his arms up in instinct as the cold metal was pushed further into him, eye squeezed shut until he eventually felt the gun move away. “See! Just me! Your buddy Jam- Hrk!” Mako grabbed him by the hood of his jacket, hauling him out from under the seat and dropping him into the dirt below. Without another word he’d get into the truck, slamming the door behind him. 

“Wait! Don't go! You can't just leave me like this!” the blonde leapt up from the ground, hand slamming onto the glass of the window, knocking repeatedly in futile attempts to get the older man's attention. “what the hell is wrong with you huh?! Breaking my fucking face then leaving me in the dirt?! Twice?!” as the truck pulled away , he reached for the closest object he could find, a rock in the dirt and tossed it at the truck. Luckily hitting the metal roof rather than the window, leaving the smallest of dents. 

“I waited for you ya’ know!” 

It wasn’t clear what caused Mako to stop, but moments after pulling away the truck came to a halt, door opening on the passenger side. Taking it as an invitation Jamie rushed over and jumped in, a shit eating grin plastered onto his face. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me mate”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment and like is appreciated even if I don't respond I do read them all!


	7. Chapter 7

“You miss me?”

Silence

“you still mad?”

More silence.

The drive so far had been nothing but silence, despite Jamie trying on multiple occasions to start up a conversation. The next few days would be the same. Jamie would try to start up a conversation, whether They’d be digging through the remains of a gas station for fuel or food, or siphoning what little gas they could from an abandoned vehicle on the side of the road. They would not find much and barely had anything to begin with. Hardly enough to feed Jamie let alone Mako who had began stretching his own share of what little food they had. Even during the quiet of the evening little words passed between the two. Jamie of course tried fruitlessly to gain Mako’s attention, commenting on the days haul or making some remark about an undead they had taken out earlier that day. 

By the third day Jamie had enough. Silence didn't treat him well, it didn't treat anyone well. Jamie hated it, the silence. The ambience of the wood surrounding the camp wasn't enough. Wind through the trees, the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of some animal moving through the undergrowth. He needed words, communication, a voice that wasn't just the whispering plaguing the back of his mind. Long into the evening he had sat alone, prodding the half eaten can of beans that had been resting in a pocket of hot ashes near the flames, keeping them warm in case he got hungry again. Mako sat on the other side face buried in some book he’d picked up at the last station they raided. From what he could see by the cover it was some cheesy romance novel, the edges torn and dirty, a few specs of blood dotting the back. 

Every now and again Jamie would glance to the book, counting the tiny red spots over and over again, eventually his eyes would turn to Mako, counting the spots of dirt and grime on his shirt. It would distract him for a short while but not enough to keep his patience from running out. 

“What is your problem?” 

Mako didn't respond, he didn't even look up, far too involved in whatever poorly written cheese was going on the book. 

Jamie cleared his throat, speaking a little louder this time. “I said what is your problem?” 

This time Mako would respond, glancing up from the pages with a small sigh, reaching down to pick up a leaf to dust off and use as a placeholder in his book.

“I’m waiting.”

“Waiting? For what?”

“An apology”.

Oh? Oh...right that made sense. He must if been talking about the farm. How Jamie threw the molotov into the herd, how everything lit up and burned. He never intended on damaging everything, only slowing down the herd enough for them to escape. Besides if Mako didn't rush off like that or came back like Jamie had hoped he’d see that the house was still standing. A husk of its former self but still standing. 

And what would of have happened if he didn't throw the molotov? For all they knew both if them could of been dead, eaten alive by living corpses and perhaps even joining the herd in the endless search for human flesh to eat. They were lucky to be alive. 

“I had worked for ten years to build up that farm, get a decent business off of it. Only for you to show up and do the one thing I told you not to do”.

Jamie hated this, being scolded like some child. He thought he could leave that behind in his old life before everything turned but here he was being told by his only friend in this dying world just how much he had fucked up. Mako was right too, Jamie had done something wrong, disobeyed orders in the heat of the moment. They could of gotten out without the fire, maybe not in one piece but they could have done it. 

But even then there was the chance that they wouldn't have made it. Farm gone or not they were alive, that's what mattered right?

“Everything I have ever cared about is gone, and it is your fault”

Mako didn’t raise his voice, but the upset was clear. Mako had nothing left. No home, no family. He had his truck but he had barely enough fuel for half a days travel. He had Jamie but so far the kid had done nothing but get on his nerves, for a moment he ha questioned why he chose to agree to that deal, let that little shit come back home with him. Jamie had already proven himself to be a survivor, the fortress he built back in that supermarket was impressive to say the least. Mako could have left him, he would of have survived on his own no problem. 

He should have just left him behind. 

“My Fault?” Jamie scoffed, unlike Mako he was rasping his voice, a dangerous act as if anyone or anything heard them it could mean the end for them both. It put Mako on edge and he tried to Interrupt Jamie, get him to quiet down only to be pushed back with louder words. 

“You think I just invited all those undead to the farm?! That I wanted them to come?! They do that on their own, move in herds I’ve seen it before!”

Mako heard it first, movement around them. What it was he didn't know but Jamie’s Yelling wasn't helping. He reached for the gun by his side, almost out right ignoring Jamie and his ranting, tuning in every now and again as his eyes scanned the treeline surrounding them. Then he saw it, a single undead, old and rotten, missing an arm and much of its face, rotten away from months of decay. It was slow but determined, pushed on by Jamie’s Yelling. 

“Jamie Behind y-” 

“No! I am not done! I didn't aim for the house! I got the herd! I basically saved your ass!”

“Jamie there is a-”

“I said I’m not d-”

 

Mako fired, narrowly missing Jamie as the kid ducked raising his hand above his head as he cowered on the floor. Mako however did hit the undead, the corpse falling back to the floor in a heap twitching and convulsing until it eventually fell still, it’s head nothing more than a pile of flesh. 

“Jesus what the hell!?” Jamie turned to look at the corpse only now aware of it being there. 

Mako was already stamping out the fire and packing up, they would have to move a new spot and he was not waiting a minute longer. He ignored Jamie as he sat arms covering his head quiet in thought, instead double checking they had everything before picking up the half eaten can of beans Jamie had left. Half tempted to eat them himself Mako turned the can in his hand, only to let out a sigh and offer them to Jamie. 

“Eat up, we have to move”. Mako gave the can a shake, getting Jamie’s attention. He’d snatch the can and quickly gulp down the contents as Mako continued to pack, tossing the can away once it was empty. He’d remain silent until Mako gave him a nudge, prompting him to get up and move. The plan was, at least for Mako, to head back to truck, make sure it was still there and if needed get in and drive. If it was safe enough the two if them could easily move to another spot in the woods. 

Mako was in a hurry, Jamie trailed behind, both in relative silence. 

“ I’m sorry”. 

Mako glanced back at Jamie who was slightly hunched over as he walked, left hand gripping what was left of his right arm. 

“What?” 

“Said I’m sorry. I fucked up both here and the farm. Should if listened to ‘ya”. 

Mako couldn't tell if he was being sincere but he took it, giving him a nod as he continued on. Jamie would catch up by the time they reached the treeline, the two peering out for anything that could be considered even remotely dangerous, undead, animals, other people. If it wasn't themselves it was dangerous. A few undead were indeed around, scattered in all directions along the road. Luckily easy to avoid, if they stayed quiet. Jamie was ready to go, excited even, his upset from moments ago seemingly melting away at the chance for some action. Mako had to hold him back for as just as he stepped out of cover Mako had spotted something far more dangerous than just a few lumbering corpses. 

The beam of a flashlight, two, three, glinting out from behind a few parked cars further up the road and very quickly making their way towards them, towards the truck. Carefully he watched as the lights peeked into parked cars, checking for everything from dead to supplies. 

They could make it, the truck was close, and if they got their first they could drive away no problem. From here it was impossible to see if the group was armed, but these days it was better to assume everyone was armed. With a nod Mako handed Jamie the keys and told him to go, he made a quick dash for the truck, keeping his head low and weapon of choice, (his bat) at the ready. He successfully reached the truck unseen, sticking to the right side as it faced away from the road and the strangers. He was quick to unlock the door, diving in and ducking just as a beam of light shined through the window on the left. Hand over his mouth and as much of his body tucked hidden uncomfortably under the seat Jamie held his breath, waiting for the beam to pass. Thankfully it did only for it to return again just moments later.

Mako waited, moving along the treeline as quietly as he could, each step light and carefully planned as to not make a sound as he got closer to his destination. He still had to make the run from the treeline to the truck and with the group stopping to investigate the run went from possible to impossible. Mako couldn't recall what was in there that could be so interesting, they normally took whatever they could with them when setting up camp or raiding a stop. Had they seen Jamie? There was no time to think, no time to hope, he had to stop this before it begun. 

Shotgun ready and loaded Mako stepped out from the treeline, aimed high and ready as he made his way towards the group. It would be a few long seconds before one noticed, the other two in the group of three busy with the truck. The poor fellow who noticed immediately backed off, taken aback by Mako’s sheer size, he reached out to grab the attention of one of his friends who also stepped back in a fright at the sight of Mako. 

“Back off” Mako warned them, shoving the barrel of the shotgun in the face of the closest stranger. The only response he got was a nod, the strangers arms raised as be backed up slightly. The other two pointed their own weapons at Mako. Jamie peered out from under the seat, barely able to see what was happening. He had heard Mako, he had heard his threat. Panic filled him, he was useless where he was, jumping out would make him vulnerable but if he had gone unnoticed it would give him the upper hand. He could easily grab one of the men, get him into a hold, one stood right outside the door. Holding his breath he reached for the handle, body poised and ready to leap out. He heard shutting outside, a grunt although from who he couldn't tell. Hand tight on the handle be took a deep breath, the door clicking open softly as he pushed. 

He yelped, letting out a strangled cry as he was pulled away from the door, forced from the seat of the truck and onto the damp road dirt. The barrel of a gun pressed to his head as he was forced to stand, arm tight around his neck in a choke hold, cutting off his airway enough to sting but not stop his breath. 

Mako’s attention turned to the fourth unseen member of the group who had ahold of Jamie. How did he miss them? This man didn't have a flashlight, just the gun. It was a stupid move to not carry a light but at the same time genius, allowing almost anyone to pass unnoticed clearly working out well for this other man. The surrounding undead although few had seen the lights and heard the commotion, now turned and began to make their way towards the group, groaning as they reached for the beams, clawing at the air. 

This was bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue update I finally got around to finishing. Took some time with my workload and other fics but here it is more zombie survival fun yay. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Every kudos, comment and view is greatly appreciated and keeps me going!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I hope I have the guts to continue this. Zombies are really fun.


End file.
